I thought I was a made man. Alas! I was only an APRIL FOOL!




MAY.--RESTORATION DAY.

As the month of May is considered, by poets and other philosophers, to
be devoted by Nature to the great purpose of love-making, I may as well
take advantage of that season and acquaint you with the result of MY
amours.

Young, gay, fascinating, and an ensign--I had completely won the heart
of my Magdalen; and as for Miss Waters and her nasty uncle the
Doctor, there was a complete split between us, as you may fancy; Miss
pretending, forsooth, that she was glad I had broken off the match,
though she would have given her eyes, the little minx, to have had it on
again. But this was out of the question. My father, who had all sorts of
queer notions, said I had acted like a rascal in the business; my mother
took my part, in course, and declared I acted rightly, as I always
did: and I got leave of absence from the regiment in order to press
my beloved Magdalen to marry me out of hand--knowing, from reading and
experience, the extraordinary mutability of human affairs.

Besides, as the dear girl was seventeen years older than myself, and as
bad in health as she was in temper, how was I to know that the grim
king of terrors might not carry her off before she became mine? With the
tenderest warmth, then, and most delicate ardor, I continued to press my
suit. The happy day was fixed--the ever memorable 10th of May, 1792.
The wedding-clothes were ordered; and, to make things secure, I penned a